


Old and New Material

by LadyDrace



Series: Junk Ficlets from Tumblr [121]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fanboy Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, Humor, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Post-Coital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Victor and Yuuri did the do. Then Victor discovers some things Yuuri would really rather he didn't. But it all turns out well in the end.





	Old and New Material

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crossroadswrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/gifts).



> Disclaimer: This is very much NOT my fandom. I don't know these characters at all, outside of random gif sets I've seen on my dash. It was written as a birthday present for my bro Rita, who was a butt and didn't tell me it was her birthday until very late. So this thing is unbetaed, probably OOC, and will most likely be the only thing I write for this fandom. 
> 
> [Originally posted on tumblr](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/post/153047482446/alright-so-heres-the-dealio-rita-aka). 

”I like this one,” Victor says, and it doesn’t make sense. This one of what? Yuuri is too blissed out currently to give it much thought. He can barely even keep his eyes from crossing, he feels so lax and sated.

 

”This one is a little too  _bling_ , don’t you agree?”

 

”What even is bling,” Yuuri murmurs. He feels floaty and heavy at the same time, snuggled up against Victor’s smooth side. Yuuri never even knew anything could feel like that. Sure, he’d had ideas about sex, but something like this? What they have,  _combined_  with the sex? It was transcendent.

 

”I have no idea. Oh, this one was fun to shoot.”

 

There’s a weird fluttering sound, and Yuuri finally gets curious enough to muster the energy to sit up. And then he promptly falls out of bed, because  _oh no_.

”No, nononono, don’t look at those!” he yelps, and snatches up the posters Victor has obviously found behind the bed where Yuuri had carelessly stuffed them down for safe keeping earlier, to avoid being seen by that one important person, who was currently easing up one more with a goddamn smirk on his face.

 

”Gah, you need to burn this one. Look at my  _hair!_ ”

 

Yuuri yanks it out of his grip, all the good feelings from moments earlier abruptly replaced with a desperate wish for the floor to just open up and swallow him whole.

 

”Oh god, please don’t hate me, you must be so creeped out, I’m so sorry, Victor, I never meant for you to find these! Oh no, that sounds even worse, I’m sorry!” he wails, slowly crushing the posters into a lump against his chest, and just when he thinks it can’t get any worse, Victor reaches behind the bed again and comes up with…

 

”Ohhh, Yuuri. I’ll bet this one is your favorite.”

 

It’s not, actually. His favorite is the massive, glossy poster of Victor in mid-jump, looking focused and glorious, light bouncing off the silver streaks in his costume. But the tiny scrap of paper Victor is holding now has certainly seen some attention. It’s a cut-out from a gossip magazine, roughly the size of a bottle cap. A rare candid of Victor at a hotel pool in skimpy Speedos and expensive sunglasses. It’s the only picture of him that Yuuri has where Victor is even remotely undressed, and he’d always made sure to hang it somewhere not immediately noticed by most visitors. And now Victor is reading the crappy little gossip article about his body and the brand of his sunglasses, and Yuuri kinda wants to vomit.

 

”It’s not, I swear it’s not. I don’t want to see you like that.”

 

Victor raises an eyebrow in obvious question.

 

”I mean… cheap! I don’t ever want to see you treated like… like a piece of meat.”

 

”Too bad,” Victor says with a shrug, and hands Yuuri the scrap. ”I kinda like being your cutlet,” he purrs, and waggles his eyebrows.

 

Yuuri crushes the paper in his palm, and stares. ”How are you okay with this?”

 

”How am I okay with my boyfriend-” Yuuri’s stomach jumps around violently at that word. ”-loving how I look? Gee, let me think.”

 

It’s like Yuuri’s whole world is tilting. He’d seen this moment in his worst nightmares, but somehow nothing is going like it should. Victor should be appalled. Offended. Outraged. Instead he’s giving Yuuri a look so fond it feels like it’s warming him, even standing naked in the chill of his room.

 

”What is happening,” Yuuri asks weakly, and Victor reaches out for the crumbled gossip article.

 

”Tell me, Yuuri,” he asks, standing up slowly, and sliding up close in the way that always makes Yuuri weak in the knees. ”Did you look at this at night and think of me? Did you dream about this? Did you-” he leans in until his lips are at Yuuri’s ear. ”Did you touch yourself to this picture?”

 

”No,” Yuuri says, shaking his head.

 

Victor pulls away to make that damn eyebrow at him again. ”Really.”

 

”No. Not to that one.”

 

A terrifying smile of glee erupts on Victor’s face. ”Oh? Which one then?”

 

Yuuri takes a deep breath and prays to whichever gods are available that he won’t drop dead from sheer mortification, and then untangles one of the smaller posters from the crumbled up ball in his hands. Victor takes it from his hand, frowning as he looks at it. ”Are you sure? This isn’t dirty at all.”

 

To Victor it probably isn’t, but to Yuuri…

 

It’s a picture of Victor training. He’s flushed, breath a spiked cloud in front of his face, head thrown back in a beautiful arc of neck, Adam’s apple pronounced and frankly biteable. He’s wearing a loose track suit, open at the collar, a tiny bead of sweat at his temple, and his hair mussed, his legs wide apart as he drifts lazily across the ice between routines.

 

It’s everything Yuuri’s imagination needed to make it real. It’s how he always thought Victor would look, lying back after a good fuck, self-satisfied and spent, but still so full of life, panting and hungry for more. And now Yuuri has proof. He got it exactly right.

 

”Yes. I… I touched myself to that picture of you,” he admit, and then forces himself to raise his head and face Victor. Whatever the reaction might be.

 

Victor looks… surprised. Then fond, and then… then he lets he picture drop, in favor of using both hands to cradle Yuuri’s face, and guide it up for a kiss. ”Only you, Yuuri. Only you,” he sighs, and Yuuri’s legs go all noodly under him, so he comes along happily enough when Victor guides him back onto the bed.

 

Much later, after a lot more life-altering lovemaking, Victor gets out of bed with a photo of himself stuck to his ass, and Yuuri daringly snaps a picture on his phone while Victor is busy stretching. It never hurts to have a little blackmail.

 

”Oh, you need new material?” Victor teases and strikes a pose, but Yuuri just puts his phone away.

 

”No, I don’t need it anymore.”

 

End.


End file.
